Dissonance
by SuperNinjaCrossbowGirl
Summary: So half way through Deluge, when the Forelli's are returning on the Sea Wolf, They confront the Fiorentini's who have captured Orazio and Galileo. During the battle Lia is hit on the head and loses her memory, but not all of it. She can remember up to the morning when Gabbi and Lia discovered the tomb. How will Luca get his new bride to return to him?
1. Chapter 1

**So half way through Deluge, when the Forelli's are returning on the _Sea Wolf_ , They confront the Fiorentini's who have captured Orazio and Galileo. During the battle Lia is hit on the head and loses her memory, but not all of it. She can remember up to the morning when Gabbi and Lia discovered the tomb. How will Luca get his new bride to return to him?**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the River of time series.**

 **Please excuse any translational errors, all done by Google Translate. Corresponding numbers at the bottom are translations into English.**

 **Enjoy:)**

"Nay!" Cried mom.

"Evangelina…" Growled Luca. I had already reached for my bow and arrow. The ship was still a little out of reach and my first error landed 10 feet shy of the nearest archer.

"Get us closer, Nicolo!" I cried.

The Fiorentini kept shooting at Galileo but he dived underwater. Marcello muttered something but I could not hear it. The boat rocked as all the people gathered to one side to see Galileo. I tripped over a sandbag used for the sails and fell. I heard Luka and scream my name. Then it all went black.

...…

I slowly blinked my eyes open. By the amount of light, it should be around five. If mom thought we were helping her at the site this early in the morning, she had another thing coming. I moaned and shut my eyes type again. My limbs felt like I had been asleep for days.

"Evangelia?" A warm voice softly asked. I opened my eyes to meet a light pair of greens. They danced with a happiness that should be illegal for this time of morning.

The next words out of his mouth sounded like gibberish. I couldn't understand but I wanted to hear it again. What was that? Spanish? Italian? Bummer. I kind of wished my Waking Angel spoke English. But, beggars can't be choosers.

"Ah, Evangelia." He whispered, taking in my face like he was studying a puzzle. His accent on my name made me want to swoon.

I gave him a shy smile and received one as well. He mumbled his words and lowering his head to nuzzle my neck. His lips brushed my pulse. Wow.

"Il mia amore, la prego di dirmi sei sveglio."(1) He continued to graze his lips up my neck resulting in delicious butterflies blooming in my stomach.

"Come ti senti? Non vi preoccupa il mio fino a malattia, Evangelia."(2) His words were calming even though I couldn't understand them. This was the best dream I had ever had and all I wanted was to never wake up.

"Amore mia?"(3) He pulled up to look into my eyes, confusion set in his own.

His confusion snapped me out of my haze. My surroundings lost that blurry dream feel and I realized there was an actual boy on top of me. Fear set in. _What was going on?_ I tried to move my arms but the message wasn't received in my limbs. "Lia? Lia, amore mia, sei al sicuro." (4).

"How do you know my name!" I cried.

His brow that was set in a frown sunk even further. "Non riesco a capire voi, Evanglia. Dovete parlare nella nostra lingua." (5).

I started thrashing about the bed but that only made his grip on me tighten. This was no boy, this was a man. A big, strong man who was lying on top of me in a bed that knew my name! "Get off of me! Let me go!" I yelled.

"Evangelia, calmati. Calmati." (6).

"What are you saying! Get off! Get OFF!" One of his hands clamped down on my mouth. No! I bit down hard on his palm.

"Santos, Lia!" he growled. "Ciò che è sbagliato con te!" (7).

"MOM!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "MOM!"

A banging at the door added to the commotion. "Signore Forelli!"

"HELP!"

"EVANEGLIA!" The man shouted at me. Waking Angel like hell.

The door burst open and a man in a strange outfit and long curly hair ran in. He was holding a sword. Why was he holding a sword?! I screamed.

"Evangelia!" He knew my name too! "Evangelia, calmati." He advanced towards me and I let out yet another blood curdling scream. He stopped in his tracks and looked to my attacker. "Luca, che cosa hai fatto?" (8)

"Niente, ho pensato che stava avendo una notte di terrore!" (9) They were talking to each other. Was he part of this too? They both looked at me again. The brown haired man waved his hand and the other two guys standing by the door left.

I was so scared I felt the first tear fall from my eyes. The blonde's face twisted as if in response to my tears and he took a step to me.

"Don't-" my voice broke as I choked on my tears. "Don't come any closer!"

He reluctantly ceased his movements. "Evange-"

"LIA!" Gabbi's voice rang through the air and relief swamped over me. I turned in time to see her coming through the door. "Lia, cosa c'è che non va?" (10.)

NO! Can she not speak English either?! Then something else caught my attention. I had been so relieved to see her face, I hadn't took the time to look at the rest of her. She was dressed in the same Renaissance looking clothing but . . . and. . . and she was . . . PREGNANT?

"Gabbi! You're-you're-you're p-p-p."

"Pregnant?" she looked at me as if I was the one insane. "Yeah, Lia, I'm still pregnant." At least she spoke in English this time.

"Still? Gabbi what are you talking about? You're sixteen!" She looked like she was about to burst. How did that happen over night? She doesn't even have a boyfriend.

"Lia, I'm not-"

"Lia, honey, what's the matter?" Mom came running in the door.

"Mommy." I sobbed and leaped into her arms like a child. "What-what- is hap-p-ening?" my question was broken my my cries.

"Benedetto-"

I heard his name but not the rest of the question, I was waiting to see if this was still a dream. If I heard his voice, I would know this is just all one big scary dream. I pulled away from mom to look. My dad stood right behind her. He looked the same as he did when we lost him. "Bu-but your-you're dead."

It was as if everything in the room stood still, and then tilted forward.

.

.

.

.

 **(1). "My love, please tell me you have awaken."**

 **(2). "How are you feeling? You worried me to sickness, Evangelia."**

 **(3). "My Love?"**

 **(4). "Lia? Lia, my love, you are safe."**

 **(5). "I cannot understand you, Evangelia. You must speak in our Language."**

 **(6)."Evangelia, calm down. Calm down."  
**

 **(7). "Saints, Lia! . . . What is wrong with you!"**

 **(8). "Luca, what did you do?"**

 **(9). "Nothing, I thought she was having a night terror."**

 **(10). "What's wrong."**

 **Let me know what you thought in the reviews.**


	2. Adoption Notice

I woke with a pounding head and an ache in my neck. Great. I thought the beds at the cottage were better than this. I kept my eyes shut against the world, surprised I couldn't hear the usual buzz coming from Gabi. I had the worst dream last night.

I slowly opened my eyes to see a stone ceiling and knew instantly that it wasn't a dream. It was all real. What was going on? Before I could scream, Gabi appeared above me and grabbed my shoulders.

"Lia, calm down. It's going to be okay. You just have to trust me."

I looked past her as I heard further movement around the room. Dad was standing there, looking healthy and, well, alive.

"You—you're alive?" Mom and Dad both nodded their heads slowly, as if unsure how I would react. "How?"

"Lia," Gabi started slowly. "You remember the tombs at the Etruscan worksite?"

I nodded. We were going to go explore them later this—that?—week.

"Well, inside the tombs were these handprints and when we put our hands on them, we showed up here."

"Time travel?" I asked slowly. "We went back to the Etruscan Empire?" I didn't know much about that time or culture, but I had thought they were less evolved than this. Like Egyptian or Old Testament time period.

"Not exactly. We traveled back to the 1300's, Medieval times."

Gabi said something else but my attention had shifted back to my father. "Daddy?" I sobbed and held out my hands. I didn't care where or even when we were, the wish I had been praying for every night since the accident had come true. My dad was here, he could hold me one last time.

Dad was there in an instant and I pressed my head into his shoulder. He smelt the same, under all the weird smells of this time, he was the same. He held me as I calmed down. Everything about this story seemed to match what's been happening. The man with the sword, the language, the clothing and what I was pretty sure was a castle. Except for the fact that I should remember it all. And the fact that Dad was alive and Gabbi was pregnant, but I had a feeling I was the only one missing memories.

"Wait, if we traveled back in time, how come I don't remember it?" My voice was still thick, but it was no longer panicked or broken up with sobs.

"You hit your head, sweetheart," Dad explained. "We were trying to get our, well, our cousins back home when you tripped over a sandbag and hit the deck. You landed on your head and you've been asleep for a while."

"And when I woke up I didn't have any memories?" I asked to make sure I understood.

"Yes, we think it's a minor case of amnesia."

I looked back over at Gabi. "How much don't I remember?"

"All of our time here," Gabbi answered.

"And how long is that?" I was a little afraid of the answer.

"About three years," Gabbi said, albeit reluctantly.

"And you're, um, married?" I guessed.

Gabbi gave the biggest smile I've ever seen. "Yes, I am. His name is Marcello Forelli."

"Oh, well, um, I'd love to meet him."

"You kinda already have. He was the one who burst in here when you woke up."

"The one with the sword?"

Gabbi kinda laughed. "They all have swords, silly. But yes, he was the only one who had it drawn at that moment."

"And who was the other guy, the one," I blushed as I thought of my waking angel. The last thing I was going to do was finish that sentence in front of my dad. For a moment no one said anything, and that when I knew something was wrong. "Well?"

"Che cosa devo dirle?" (1). Gabbi spoke under her breath in a rapid fire of confusing words.

"Non credo che dovremmo dirle la verità, non sappiamo cosa farà," (2). Mom responded in like terms.

"Non possiamo nasconderlo da lei. Inoltre, che cosa hai intenzione di dire a Luca? Ci dispiace, ma non abbiamo intenzione di farvi vedere sua monglie? Egli è preoccupato malato." (3).

"Excuse me," I yelled. "What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry, Lia. We are just trying to do what's best for you," Mom said.

"Who is he?" I demanded.

"Lia, he's your," Gabbi started but froze.

"He's, um, your," Mom tried and failed to continue as well.

"My what?" I snapped, getting frustrated.

"Your husband." Dad finished.

"My," I stumbled over the thought. "My husband?"

"Yes," Dad said.

I had a husband? "I want to see him."

"Lia, you can't even speak his language, surely that can wait?" Mom suggested.

Oh, right. The language. "When did you learn it? It's Italian right? Did you learn it right when you guys got here?"

"No," Gabi said. "And it is Italian. But the language came with the time jump. When we got here, we already understood it and could speak it."

"Then why don't I know how?"

"Maybe you lost it with your memories," Mom deduced.

I thought over it for a moment. Obviously what they were saying was true, but it still sounded about as far fetched as a fantasy novel.

"Why don't you get some sleep, and you can think it over some more when you wake," Dad said, breaking me from my confusion.

"No," I said, shocking them. "I want to see him."

"Honey, that might not be the best," Mom argued.

"Mom, please. I, I just want to see him again. If I have a husband now, I, I just," I stopped talking as my head started to hurt again. "Please?" I begged, unsure why it was so important for me to see him, but knowing it was.

Mom sighed deeply. "Gabriella, would you mind too much?"

Gabi stood up to go but I called out, "Wait, can Gabi stay? In case we need a translator." I explained.

"I could do that," Mom volunteered.

"Um," I didn't want to hurt her feelings, but I didn't know how to tell her I would rather Gabi do it.

But luckily my sister came to my rescue. "Mom, I would actually prefer to just stay seated. It's getting hard to stand up now."

"But I could come back later," Mom tried.

"I'm fine with Gabbi. But thank you, Mom."

Mom, at Dad's quiet insistence, left with him. Evidently to find the man I had deemed worthy enough to spend the rest of my life with.

"What's his name?" I asked once the doors shut.

"His name is Sir Luca Forelli." I looked over at her as I recognized the name. "Yes," Gabbi laughed. "They are cousins."

I nodded and went back to my silent pondering.

"Lia," Gabbi began, hesitantly. "Luca loves you a lot. When you two finally decided to get married, you were happy and you loved him too, but he had been asking for nearly a year before you finally agreed. To lose you so suddenly, and so soon," tears flooded her eyes, "I know this is going to crush him. I know you're confused and you don't really know what's happening, but you are Luca's whole world. Try to be careful."

Before I could respond there was a quiet knock at the door and Gabi went up to meet him. They spoke quietly, as if there was a chance I could understand them if they spoke normally rather than whispered. I bit back a dry comment and tried to remember what Gabi had said. I didn't understand how it was possible for someone else to be your whole world. Wasn't that an unhealthy relationship? Obsession wasn't love, it could actually be dangerous.

But as he approached the bed carefully, those thoughts fled my mind. "Evangelia," the way he spoke my name rid me of doubts.

I gulped and then decided to try his name for the first time. Maybe it would have a similar effect. "Luca?" I didn't mean for it to sound like a question but from the look on his face, he didn't seem to mind.

He nodded eagerly. Following my instincts, I reached out a hand. He quickly took it and I pulled him to sit on the edge of the bed. We sat in silence as I studied his face. While I took in his strong features, my heart galloped like a stallion in my chest. He was somewhere between a pretty boy who belonged in a boy band and a golden-ratioed, professional athlete. If I had known men like this existed, I wouldn't have even bothered with boys from my time.

Warmth filled me the longer I stared at him. He was handsome, the most handsome man I had ever seen, but it was more than that. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he already loved me, or maybe it was the fact that I was pretty sure the intense look in his eyes was that love. Whatever it was, it made me feel settled for the first time since I had woken up. With my free hand, I hesitantly lifted my fingers to his cheek.

The connection flowed openly between him and me. It was like an invisible rubber band tying us together and not being satisfied until there was no more space separating the two of us. The pain that I was discovering in his eyes wretched my heart. I knew that the sadness marring his face was my doing, even if it was not my fault. I stroked his cheekbone with the back of my fingers and he closed his eyes, as if savoring my touch. Because of this, I didn't remove my hand from his face as I looked over his shoulder to Gabi.

"How did we meet?"

She translated it to Luca and his eyes got that far away look that happened when someone was remembering something in vivid detail. He spoke softly and slowly, as if he hoped that it might make it easier for me to understand. His voice was soothing, and even though I had no idea what he was saying, I had this weird longing to sit and listen to him for hours.

"He," Gabi paused, as if uncertain of her words, "said you met at Fiorentini castle, and the first time he saw you, you were shooting your bow."

I frowned at her poor attempt at repeating what he said. "No, Gabi. I want his words."

"Lia, I don't think this is a good idea."

"What the hell does that mean?" I snapped, so mad at everyone trying to keep things from me. Luca jerked next to me, hearing the tone of my voice. "I thought you were on board with this."

"I can't—"

"You can't what? Help me communicate with a man I was just told is my husband?"

"He basically just wrote you a sonnet, I can't translate that. Let alone even remember enough of it to repeat all his words."

A calloused but incredibly gentle hand turned my head away from Gabbi.

"Evangelia," Luca spoke my name—the only word I could understand. My muscles locked up and my skin seemed to shrink and my hands balled into fists. I didn't understand what was going on, I was so frustrated with everyone, and the only person who even seemed to be trying to help me didn't even speak the same language as me. "Evangelia," he repeated and his hands covered mine, slowly uncurling my fingers and taking my hand in his.

"Gabriella, come le dico di credere che tutto andrà bene?" (4).

I frowned at the question directed to my sister. Gabi responded but I wasn't listening. I didn't want to hear her poor translations anymore. Instead, I stared down at the rough hand holding mine. It was calloused and dry, the hands of a worker, but his pants, which our hands were currently resting on, were not of poor quality. Gabi had said he was titled. Did that mean he was a knight?

A gentle hand lifted my chin and I stared once again into the eyes of this familiar stranger.

"Trust me, Evangelia. I will not harm you."

My eyes widened at the words. His accent was strong, and he butchered the pronunciation, but I could understand what he said, and I knew it was the same thing he had been trying to communicate since I had woke up. Suddenly I was absolutely sure that I had nothing to fear from him. Luca Forelli.

I gave him a small smile, and peace came over me. I didn't know the etiquette for how one was supposed to deal with a spouse you couldn't remember, let alone the social norms for the fourteenth century. But my head was hurting and I honestly couldn't have cared less. Ignoring Gabi once more, I leaned forward slightly to rest my head on Luca's broad shoulder. The pressure made the pounding in my head lessen, and I found my eyes closing by themselves. The last thing I thought was that he smelt a lot better than what I expected medieval men to smell like.

.

.

.

(1). "What should we tell her?"

(2). "I don't think we should tell her the truth. We don't know what she'll do."

(3). "We can hardly hide it from her. Besides, what are you going to tell Luca? Sorry, but we are not going to let you see your wife? He is worried sick."

(4). Gabriella, how do I tell her to trust that everything will be fine?


End file.
